(Your) satisfaction

this race is run and the winners declared
we others fade to obscure note
ne’er more than the competition
of laughter and temporary
where once I saw forever
in that honesty of
delight

there are no medals or commendations
parades are more than a little au fait
the race in is run and we came in last
love sacrificed for continuity
in a competition I could not see
of disaster and dreams of forever
delight

the race is run and the results
will be delivered to you by certified mail
some surprise no doubt to you but still
you get to clean up the mess
for which you’ll never forgive
it’s all your sin, in
delight

I’m sure you can paint over
the mess on the walls
or lie about the circumstances
as if exempt from your guilt
and take it as my own
for which I forgive you in
delight

the race is run and I still love
though cast aside in shallow removal
and if you must sacrifice me
to yourself then let
me sacrifice myself to you
it’s in my nature to die
for your delight

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